Author's Note: Now complete. Thanks for reading and reviewing.

Nine and a half inches, he'd said, and Molly could tell by the way he stretched her, even just after John had exited her body, that he wasn't exaggerating. She arched her head and squeezed her eyes shut, fingers digging into Sherlock's shoulders as he slowly, tortuously pushed his way inside her. The sound of John's feet padding across the floor briefly caught her attention; on his way to the bathroom, she thought vaguely, then found her attention fully caught up by Sherlock's mouth on hers, his teeth tugging at her lower lip as he kissed her, and an entire battalion could have marched through the room and she wouldn't have noticed.

John Watson, on the other, was definitely noticing what the other two were doing as he came back into the room; his breath caught at the sight of Sherlock's lean, pale form lying across Molly's supple curves, the moonlight painting them both in shades of silver and alabaster striped with black and for a moment it was like watching some sort of foreign arthouse film. Then Molly gasped out Sherlock's name, followed immediately by a moaned, "Oh fuck, God, that feels so good, God yes, fuck me harder!" and suddenly he was back to the amazing reality that his life had morphed into.

He'd been in a few threesomes in his life, but they had all involved him and two women. This was such incredibly new territory for him that he found himself standing at the foot of the bed, not quite sure what the protocol was – if, in fact, there was such a thing in the first place! Should he just stay here and watch (getting hard again as he did so), should he join in…

"For God's sake, John, just climb back in bed and do what you like," Sherlock growled, looking over his shoulder, his hips still moving steadily against Molly's body. She gasped and craned her neck to look as well, smiling sweetly and raising one hand to gesture him forward.

Shrugging off his momentary uncertainty, John clambered onto the bed, leaning down to press a warm kiss to Molly's lips before Sherlock once again captured them with his own. Seeing the two of them so enthusiastically going at it was doing amazing things to John's recovery time; by the time he got comfortable on the bed, his cock was fully hard again.

He rested his head on the pillow next to Molly, so that all she had to do was turn if she wanted to kiss him, and carefully began running his free hand up and down Sherlock's body, shoulder to perfectly sculpted arse, making sure to give Molly a bit of a pinch behind her knee as he did so. She squeaked and arched beneath Sherlock, who let loose with another fusillade of curse words as the change in position apparently met with his enthusiastic approval.

John continued to touch Molly and Sherlock and random points, reaching between them to tweak her nipples, sliding his palm over her belly and down to her hot, wet sex. He dipped one finger into her cleft, feeling the swollen bud of her clit, shivering a bit at the combined sensation of Molly's slippery flesh and Sherlock's cock against his hand.

He pulled his hand away when Sherlock abruptly rolled over, pulling Molly along with him. Once he was flat on his back, he tugged Molly up so that she was sitting directly over his face, leaving his wet, hard cock bobbing above his stomach. John's mouth went a bit dry at the obvious invitation he'd just been issued, and without allowing himself to think about what he was about to do, he knelt between Sherlock's legs, bent his head, and took all nine-and-a-half glorious inches into his mouth and throat.

The fact that Molly's juices were liberally coating the consulting detective's prick was all to the good as far as John was concerned; he'd always loved the taste of pussy, and judging by the enthusiasm with which Sherlock was currently tongue-fucking Molly, he wasn't quite as inexperienced when it came to women as John and so many others had always assumed.

And judging by the gasps and moans Molly was making, he wasn't half bad at it, either. He pulled his mouth away from Sherlock's cock and gave Molly a sloppy kiss; her face was right there as she knelt over Sherlock's body, close enough to take his cock into her mouth if she wanted to, and John shivered at the thought of the two of them getting Sherlock off at the same time. He broke off the kiss and put his hand at the back of Molly's head, tugging lightly to indicate what he was suggesting, and was rewarded by a wide, not to mention somewhat wicked smile as she leaned down and took the head of Sherlock's cock into her mouth.

John eased himself down a bit, then put his hands under Sherlock's buttocks and mouthed his balls the way an ex-girlfriend used to do for him, which had never failed to excite him. He grinned as he heard a muffled 'Fuck' from the other end of the bed, and a soft giggle from Molly that quickly turned into a gasp as Sherlock apparently did something extremely naughty to her pussy.

Molly's breath started coming in short, sharp pants, and her mouth slipped away from Sherlock's prick as she felt the telltale signs of orgasm rippling through her cunt and abdomen. Watching John take her place, lowering his mouth over the head of Sherlock's cock while at the same time feeling Sherlock's own mouth and fingers on her pussy was all she needed to tip her over the edge. She turned her head to the side and let out a wail of pleasure, then collapsed on her side and rolled onto her back, still panting as the aftershocks shuddered through her body.

She was so lost in her own pleasure that it took her a moment to realize the Sherlock and John had once again repositioned themselves; now they were face to face, sharing deep kisses and stroking one another's cocks. Molly rose up to her knees to watch with an avid hunger; she'd never been with two men, never even fantasized about it, and was fascinated and incredibly turned on by the sight, even in the aftermath of her second orgasm of the evening.

However, watching was apparently not going to happen; as soon as Sherlock noted her change in position, he nudged John and nodded at her. "You don't mind if I finish fucking our Molly into the mattress, do you John?" he asked, his voice deeper than usual. "It would be rather rude of me not to finish what I started."

"Be my guest," John gasped out, releasing Sherlock's prick and grasping his own, steadily stroking it as Sherlock pulled Molly onto his reclining form. She quickly lowered herself onto his cock, although not without an apologetic glance at John, who merely grinned at her, leaning up in order to plant a sloppy kiss on her lips as she allowed Sherlock's thickness to fill her once again.

Molly didn't expect to come, not after having done so twice already, but then John stroked his finger against her clit and the unexpected pressure was all it took to send her crashing through her third orgasm of the night. Sherlock continued pumping steadily into her, his hands on her hips as she rested her forehead on his shoulder, and then she felt John's hands on her arse, gliding along the cleft and the waning orgasm crested again. She screamed at the sensation, having never felt anything like it in her life, clenching tightly around Sherlock's cock until she felt him joining her, his warm cum gushing into her as he gave out a strangled gasp of pleasure.

Later she would discover that John had pressed the tip of a finger against Sherlock's puckered hole, coaxing both his lovers into coming at roughly the same time.

But that was later. For now, the three of them collapsed into a sweaty, tangled heap of limbs and torsos, murmuring endearments – yes, Sherlock as well – before they fell into a contented sleep.

It was, after all the heartache and drama, the best Christmas any of them could remember.